Bedroom Games
by Coneflower Adams
Summary: [FINISHED: August 16] This is about Spot and his silence. Real angsty fic.
1. Part One

Bedroom Games  
  
Author Note: Uh…what can I say, I write too much. Actually this is an old fic I haven't worked on in a while, but finally got inspiration to do it. I hate to contribute to the millions of Spot fics out there, but he seemed like the perfect character to put in this situation. Don't let the title fool you! This fic is *not* dirty! It has some violence and other stuff ((don't wanna give it away)) in it to make it PG-13. So, that's all. Enjoy!   
  
The cold wind blew over the gravestones. Ben Conlon shivered. Not necessarily from the cold, but at the thought of who was lying in the ground below him. Still. Quiet. Not a word was spoken by her, not even in life……  
  
Spot Conlon was on patrol of his territory. Usually his newsies would go about watching over it, but there had been problems with a new gang. They'd tried to take over Brooklyn territory about a month earlier. Spot's gang had been on the edge ever since especially him.  
The ruckus on the street was interrupted with a showcase of entertainment. A girl came tearing through the crowd. She wasn't watching where she was going and was headed in front of a wagon traveling by. Spot's attention was caught by what was pursuing her - two men. They were shouting out profanity and running after the girl. That's when he saw the wagon coming near.   
In a matter of seconds, Spot found himself on the ground with the girl. He recovered his bearings first, going to help the girl up.   
"Are you okay?"  
The girl only pushed him away, grunting. The two men came storming up to them. "What did I tell you I was gonna do to you if you tried to escape?!" the first man yelled, jerking the girl to her feet.   
"Ye never suppose ta do that, lassie" the second man - who was Scottish - said coldly, wrapping his arms around her waist. She started to wiggle from his grasp. "Stop it now!"  
The girl was jerking furiously to get away and grunting loudly. No words came from her mouth. Spot stood there in utter shock. He knew it wasn't any of his business, but to treat this poor girl like that - it made him angry.   
"Hey, hey! Whatcha doin' ta her?!" he shouted, breaking in on the action.  
The two men glared at him. "None a ye business, slug!"   
The girl was now gasping for air, still trying to get away from the man's arms. She was trying so hard, she was hurting herself.   
"Why the heck you treatin' her like doit!" Spot asked, hand on cane…ready for battle.  
"She's dumb" the first man replied.  
Dumb? Spot shock his head. She didn't look 'dumb', but he wasn't sure what they meant by that. The first man finally slapped her. Spot's eyes turned gray as the gold tip of a cane connected with the man's temple. Spot fought to free the girl. He succeeded.  
He grabbed the girl's wrist and ran into the closest alleyway. He was pulling her along when she tripped over some boxes. She fell hard on her knee. It started to bleed. Spot stopped, sighing in frustration. The girl was tearing up now.   
"Let me see." He bent down next to her. The girl glared at him with glassy eyes. When he tried to touch her knee, she moved away hurriedly. "Don't be scared. I won't hoit you."  
She glared at him, suspiciously. It was hard to believe, but the girl let him look at her knee. She hesitated though. "It looks bad, but we'll get you fixed up." All she did was stare. Spot cracked a smile at her blank expression. "Whatcha name?" Staring…she didn't respond. "You can tell me yer name. It's okay. Look, I'll tell you mine. I'm Spot Conlon, leader a the Brooklyn newsies." No response. "You nevah hoid a Brooklyn? Do you know where ya at?" This was getting to be old. Spot slapped his hand on his leg. "Girl, why won't you talk?! Talk, fer crip sake!"  
The girl backed away again at his anger coming out. He noticed this and calm down. "I'm sorry. I jist wish you would say something." She started gesturing with her right hand. Spot watched, but didn't understand. "Wha' the heck are you doin'?"  
The girl touched her throat then did another hand gesture. Spot was totally confused by now. "I ain't heah ta play games. I saved you from dat wagon and who evah dose men were, but I got places ta go. Bye." He started to walk away. The girl grunted, grabbing onto his wrist. "WHAT?!" She started gesturing again this time it was more like surrads.   
She pointed to her eye. Spot played along. "Eye. Okay, what about your eye?" She waved her hands over each other then covered her mouth. Spot scratched his head trying to figure this puzzle out. Finally, it struck him. "I…can't…talk?" He looked at her. "You can't talk?" The girl slumped her shoulders, nodding sadly.   
Spot turned flush from embarrassment. He bent down in front of her again. "I'm sorry." She hung her head. "I'm guessing you don't got a place ta stay?" She nodded. "You can come wit me den. Come on." He helped her up, leading her to the Brooklyn lodging house the back way.   
  
Spot lead the girl into the Brooklyn lodging house. It was practically empty, not even the house keeper was in. Spot knew Baxter - the house keeper - wouldn't mind the girl staying there as long as she keep out of the way. He stopped and walked behind the desk in the lobby. The girl watched him curiously. He emerged with a pen and note paper.   
"Can you write?" he asked, holding the pen in the air like he was writing.   
The girl sighed, slumping her shoulders. She did something with her hands which was actually sign language.   
"Can you?"  
The girl took the paper and pen, and wrote something down. She handed it back to Spot. The paper said a simple, "Yes."  
Spot almost wanted to laugh. "Whatcha name, den?"  
The girl wrote on the paper again, and handed it back. "Kathryn. Dat's a pretty name. So…Kathryn, follow me upstairs."  
She stared at him oddly, making another sign with her hands. Spot groaned. This was already starting to irritate him. He became irritated very easily. Almost all his life, he'd been like that. That's one reason he became the Brooklyn leader…his flaring temper.   
  
"Since you sayin' heah, don't think it'd be wise to sleep in the bunkroom with the boys. So you'll sleep in my room" Spot said, leading Kathryn to a small door near the end of the bunkroom. He opened it, revealing a small space in the wall. It was about the size of a large, narrow closet with only a bunk bed, crate, and night stand where a lamp sat. There were no windows.   
"You can take the bottom. The top bunk is mine." Kathryn nodded in agreement. "Like I was sayin' about the boys, they're very frisky. If any of 'em give you trouble, come to me. I wouldn't suggest in trusting any of them." Kathryn nodded again.   
"Look heah, Kathryn, I know you couldn't be a newsie - dat requires a voice." She appeared slightly taken aback by the comment, but understood. "You think you can do chores 'round heah? It'd give Baxter a break and maybe they'll be your pay back for staying heah." Kathryn smiled a little, bobbing her head.  
"Okay. C'mon…" Spot directed her out the room to the main bunkroom. "We'll wait fer the boys downstairs in the dining hall. It's almost dinner time."  
  
In the small dining hall, were two long tables. Some boys had already filtered in from a hard days work. Kathryn was surprised at how big they were. The boys looked more like muscled giants to her. Spot lead her over to the head of the table where he sat. The boys stared at Kathryn like she was a piece of meat ready for the dog's eating. Kathryn hung her head low from shame mostly, not wanting to see their faces.   
Spot looked over his band of newsies. They were all waiting for Baxter to finish the soup so they could pick it up at the counter. Kathryn sat down in the seat next to Spot's, but he didn't sit.   
Taking his gold-tip cane out his pant's loop, Spot began to speak. "Boys, dis is Kathryn. She needs a place ta stay, so, she's stayin' heah. She can't talk, so, don't get offended if she doesn't reply ta you. I don't want none of you givin' her trouble or you'd have to answer ta me. Got dat?"   
All the boys agreed. But one had this curious expression on his face. The girl looked oddly familiar to him. He was about to stand up and ask, when Baxter called the soup done. There was a rush to get in line. Kathryn waited for Spot to take her up there.   
"Baxter, I need a favor" he said as they stepped up to the counter after all the boys had gotten their soup and paid.  
Baxter, who was around his mid-forties, saw Kathryn and knew what was coming. "Now Spot, I'm not housing one of your girlfriends so you can be close to her."  
Spot threw him a deranged look. "Wha'? No, no, you don't understand. This heah is Kathryn. I found a buncha slobs hurtin' her today. She can't really be a newsie, but she can do chores ta pay back fer the rent. See, she's mute."  
"You don't say…" The older man glanced over Kathryn. She was rather ragged looking, and was holding a notepad and pen. It broke his heart at the pitiful sight of her. "All right, she can stay. But if I check anything happening, you'll be thrown out like that." He snapped his finger. "You maybe the leader of these boys, but it's still my house you're livin' under. I only let you manage it."  
"Fair enough" Spot said, nodding. "Thanks Baxter. C'mon Kathryn, I'll buy you dinner."  
  
Everyone was about finished eating and were bringing their bowls to the sink in the kitchen. Kathryn saw this, deciding now would be a good time to start work. She let Spot know what she was about to do ((by notepad, of course)), and headed to the kitchen where Baxter was already starting to dash the dishes. She stopped him to start herself. Baxter was pretty glad to not have to do the extra work.   
It didn't take long before she was done. The dining hall was cleared. Kathryn scanned around the room to see if anything had been left on the tables. There really wasn't any spills or whatnot. They must try not to spill a drop - she thought to herself. It was really the first thought she had all day other than the decisions. Rarely she tried to think about anything. It would only hurt to brood over her own life.  
She was about to leave when a newsboy strolled in casually. He stared at her very intensely, like he was staring at a piece of art work that just couldn't be figured out.  
"I know you from somewhere" he finally spoke. Kathryn looked down, shamefully. "I just can't put my finger on it" The boy keep talking as he stepped closer to her. Kathryn's breathing grew harder and her nerves beginning to be on edge. "Oh well, guess I'll remember soon enough. Flaggler is the name."  
He stuck his hand out to shake. Kathryn didn't know what to do. She peered up at him as if confused. "You don't know what a hand shake is or is ole' Spot keepin' him for his self?"   
"Cool it, Flaggler" a stern voice echoed from the doorway across the room. Spot was there, leaning against the frame.   
"Wha'? I was just foolin' around, Spot" Flaggler defended, turning from Kathryn.  
"I know you, Flaggler, and you weren't foolin'." Spot sauntered up to the two then slipped between them. "You stay away from her, all right?" His intense eyes were sending daggers into his newsie's eyes.  
Flaggler smirked wickedly. "Yeah, whatever you say. I'll remember who you are, girly." With that, he walked out the room.  
Spot turned to face Kathryn. "Dang it, he's always been trouble. He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Kathryn shook her head. "Good. Now let's get upstairs, it's almost lights out."  



	2. Part Two

Writer Note: Because Kathryn is mute and the only way I can have her talk is through a notepad or her sign language, I'm going to use *whenever she's 'talking' to someone and **when she's thinking instead of saying something like "she wrote on her notepad" 'er whatnot. Hope everyone got that! :0)  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Kathryn woke up to rustling near her bed. She groggily opened her eyes to see Spot - through the candle light - looking in the mirror, slipping on his hat. Kathryn almost wanted to cry. This was a scene all too familiar to her.   
  
Sight of the girl awake made him turn around. "Good morning" he greeted, smiling slightly. He stepped over to her bed and sat down. "How'd you sleep?"  
  
Kathryn grabbed her notepad and pen from the night stand, scribbling on it. She held it up for Spot. *All right. First time I slept without interruption.*  
  
"Oh yeah. What kind of interruption?"   
  
A wince fell over her face. **What am suppose to say - screaming, hitting…** Spot notice this and decide not to go any farther. "You don't have to answer that."  
  
He heaved, standing up. "I gotta go. You be careful cleaning up today. Us boys can be real messy." Kathryn finally cracked a smile herself. "See you soon." With that, Spot strolled out the door, leaving the girl to her thoughts.  
  
Kathryn hated to think. It was something that only brought pain, because all she would do is brood and beat herself up for how her life was playing out.   
  
When she was almost a year old, she lost her voice to an illness that damaged her voice box - allowing her only to grunt and moan. Her parents didn't want a "dumb" child, so, they brought her to an institution for the deaf and mute. Instead of being treated like a dumb child, she was raised to have a good education. **Not as dumb as they thought.** But as her eleventh year rolled around, the payments stopped for her education and lodging.   
  
The next month after, she was put out on the streets. A nice man by the name of James Campbell found her, and brought to his "special" house for girls. It turned out to be a brothel where Kathryn sent five years being a pleasure for men...until yesterday when she escaped. Thank goodness Spot was there to help her make the escape a successful one.   
  
**No use in mediating over my life.** She stood off the bed to start her day in her new job - cleaning the Brooklyn Lodging House.  
  
***  
  
The morning and afternoon went by mainly fast. Kathryn started downstairs sweeping and helping Baxter sort papers. He was rather surprised at how quick she was with organizing. By 3:00 p.m., she'd moved upstairs to the bunkroom.   
  
Kathryn had just finished straightening out the sheets on one of the bottom bunks when she heard footsteps come into the room. She looked around the bunk to see Flaggler sauntering in. The arrogant grin on his face made her cringe. She keep her eyes on the floor as he walked up to her.   
  
"I figured it out" he gabbed, waging a finger at her. Kathryn keep her gaze downward. "Your from the Campbell Brothel on DeBecker Street. I remember the night we had..." He sighed in satisfaction then leaned down, caressing her cheek and pressing his lips against her neck.   
  
Kathryn's stomach sickened with every undesired touch. Her mind ached, thinking **Not again.** As much as she wanted to, she couldn't pull away. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.  
  
Flaggler stood straight, still grinning. "Let's just keep this between the two of us." With that, he walked out the bunkroom chuckling.   
  
Kathryn was frozen in place until the adversary was gone. She fell to her knees, sob after sob pouring from her chest. She hadn't escaped... 


	3. Part Three

Writer talk: In this chapter you will see why the title is "Bedroom Games". This chapter has actually been pretty interesting write...it's one of the better parts too. Kathryn isn't the picture of strength, but I'm starting to get a feel for her character and also show how the newsboys aren't that nice.   
  
***  
  
The dusk of day was falling over the city, and Spot was traveling back home from a long day of selling. A warm meal was on his mind; surprisingly, Baxter was a good cook. He was also anticipating on seeing Kathryn too. She'd popped in his mind a few times during the day. There were questions of her history, but that didn't draw him to know about her - the reason she couldn't talk and yet, she could with her hands. That concept was quite foreign to him...talking with your hands?   
  
Spot stopped long enough in the lobby of the lodging house to see what Baxter had cooked that night then headed to the bunkroom. Some of his newsies were there to greet him as he made his way to his personal space. He closed the door softly behind him; a single candle burning on the crate that stood by the bunk. Kathryn sat still on the bottom bunk staring at the floor, but raised her head cautiously to see who had entered the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes saw it was Spot.   
  
"Hey Kathryn" he started, pulling his cane out of it's holder immediately and placing it respectively against the wall by his mirror. "How was your day? Didn't get too tired of cleaning up the boys' mess, huh?"   
  
Kathryn shook her head and scribbled her answer on the notepad, "I didn't mind cleaning up."  
  
Spot snorted, removing his hat and sitting down beside her. "As long as you don't mind." The tension in the room could be felt. Kathryn stared blankly, still, at the floor - not even bothering to look at him. Spot shrugged it off though. She was an odd dame anyway. "You wanna come down to eat? Baxter is making chicken soup."  
  
"I'm not hungry" Kathryn wrote.   
  
"You had anything to eat today?" Spot asked, casually. The girl didn't appear to be malnourished; she had a good amount of weight on her making her not seem thin.   
  
"Bread" was her reply, followed by a sign that could obviously be that word.   
  
Spot shrugged, standing up. "All right. I'm going downstairs. I'll be back in a while."  
  
Kathryn let out a choked groan when he closed the door shut. She wanted so much to trust Spot, she really did. But, the run-in with Flaggler put her on the edge. She had no idea what to do in this situation. To try and run again could get her back to where she came from. To stay meant she'd be put in the torturous clutches of the newsboy who knew who she was and only wanted his way with her. The only thing she could do was sit there and cry.  
  
***  
  
When Spot returned to his room, Kathryn was sound asleep. He regarded her motionless figure. In the dim light, the tears that had ran down her cheeks had left stains. What was troubling her so? He undressed, blew out the candle, and climbed to his top bunk.   
  
For the next week, that was the routine. Kathryn did chores around the lodging house with Baxter during the day while Spot sold his newspapers. At night, Kathryn sat in the candlelight in Spot's room, not wanting anything to do with the newsboys just outside the thin walls. Spot could barely convince her to join them for dinner - choosing to wait for him to bring her the leftovers - and even get her to look directly at him. *She's not blind - Spot mused - why won't she ever look at me?*  
  
One night, Spot didn't leave for dinner. He pulled up another, smaller crate behind the bunk and sat down two feet in front of her. Kathryn's nervousness was visible as she bit her bottom lip and twisted the hem of her dress. She wondered frantically what exactly he was going to do.   
  
Spot sat, open-legged, with his elbows resting on his legs and hands clasped together. "Look at me."  
  
Kathryn felt his eyes digging into her like sharp knives. She didn't obey, keeping her stare to the floor. Spot tried again. "Look at me" he said, more demandingly. Still, she didn't follow his order.  
  
Spot sighed heavily then grasped Kathryn's chin, "I said 'Look at me'," and forcefully turned her head so she would face him straight on. Her eyes locked on his instantly, and he removed his hand. "There, now that's better. I can see you, you can see me, we can look at each other and have a conversation." He recognized the expression in her glassy eyes, knowing this action must of been a regular for her. "Kathryn, you don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you. And whatever you're thinking, I'm not gonna do it. I have respect for a lady's privacy." She nodded to acknowledge him.  
  
"Will you please teach me those hand gesture things you do."   
  
Kathryn gaped. He actually wanted her to teach him sign language? She retrieved her notepad from her right side and wrote, "Yes, I will teach you whatever you want to know."   
  
Spot's face cracked into a slight smile. "Good, that's what I wanted to hear. Tell me how to do my name."  
  
"You need to know the alphabet first" Spot read on the notepad. "Fine, teach me that."  
  
The two spent an hour working on the alphabet. Spot had already memorized half of it by the time it was lights out. Kathryn was, he had to admit, a good teacher in her own, silent way. He enjoyed silence though. To not have your nerves racked by the outrageous noise of the city was a settling experience. One reason he wanted to be the Brooklyn leader, to have a separate room away from everything. They continued the teachings every night since then with Spot being a very attentive student, learning everything rather quickly.   
  
It had been nearly two and a half weeks since the incident with Flaggler. She hadn't seen hide or hair of him either, mainly because she stayed locked in Spot's room when the newsboys were around and with Baxter most of the early day. Murmurs were spreading around the lodging house that Spot was keeping the "whore" for his own satisfaction, but no one dared confronting him about that. If he had even heard the slightest whisper about Kathryn's status in his life, he'd beat whoever said that to a bloody pulp. Even Flaggler keep quiet, but for reason of his own advantage. Spot knew they were thinking it though.  
  
Flaggler came strolling into the bunkroom - closing the door behind him - after he saw Baxter leave to run an errant. His hand grasped a slender bottle that was no doubt alcohol. Kathryn stopped her sweeping after hearing the footsteps approaching her. She nearly fainted at the sight of who it was. Flaggler staggered a bit over to her, a wicked grin plaster on his face.  
  
"I come for my share of you. Ole' Spot has been keeping you locked up for too long."   
  
Kathryn shook her head, helplessly. She thought fast to try and defend herself against this adversary; her broom swung wildly at Flaggler. In the midst of the swing, he caught it and yanked it from her. "I won't stand for that."   
  
  
The tall newsboy throw the broom far across the room before latching hold of Kathryn's wrist. "I'm going to help you get through this easier, okay?" He took a short swig of his whisky then handed the bottle to her. "Drink it."  
  
The glare in his eyes ate into her as she slowly took the bottle from him. In all her life, Kathryn never dreamed she'd be so far down to be at this level. Her goal as a girl was to be a helper of the deaf, mute, and blind as her hero, Helen Keller. Being commanded to drink alcohol and most likely feel the experience she dreaded most, was a thought wavered no where in her mind.   
  
She put the bottle to her lips already tasting the disgusting liquid that was prominent on the top. Flaggler squeezed her wrist, making her cringe as she drank one sip of the awful substance. Flaggler grinned in satisfaction knowing she'd bow down to anything that gave her a command. Kathryn's mind was sparked though by an idea using the bottle in her hand; all she needed was the right moment.   
  
Flaggler's next command was more repellent, but was not carried out along with Kathryn's plan. Baxter was calling downstairs for her. "Blast!" Flaggler exclaimed, lowly. Kathryn made her move. Instead of slamming the bottle against the boy's skull, she opened her hand letting the bottle drop to the floor. It made a loud crash, spilling the whisky all over and leaving shard glass.   
  
"What are you doing?" Flaggler snarled, pushing her to the floor. Kathryn's heart was threatening to pound out her chest, but she keep her ground and a blank face. Flaggler pointed his finger in her face. "You whore." Baxter's footsteps were coming. "We'll continue this later." He slipped out the bunkroom before the landlord made it to the second level.   
  
"Kathryn, what happen?" Baxter asked, upon seeing the puddle of alcohol and broken glass. Kathryn quickly whipped up an excuse and after a few minutes of showing what happen, Baxter helped her clean up the mess. Her excuse for the broken bottle wasn't at all what actually happened. She had "found" the bottle under a bunk and was bringing it downstairs when it slipped from her grasp. Baxter believed every word.  
  
*I needn't give Baxter more trouble than I already have. If I told anyone here about where I came from, I'd be thrown out and brought back to the brothel. I'd surely be dead* - she thought as she witnessed Flaggler slither from his hiding place and disappeared down the stairs.  
  
***  
  
That night, Spot found Kathryn on the smaller crate in front of the mirror. His ivory-toothed comb that belonged to his mother was in her hand and she was listlessly brushing her long, brunette hair. She did not bother to turn to give him a greeting. He discarded his cane, looking on at her - waiting for a smile or gesture or anything.   
  
Spot frowned, watching her brush her hair as if no one else was in the room. She hadn't been like this ever since he broke through her shell a few weeks prior. Almost ever night, Kathryn would teach him sign language and he would, as she ate her dinner, tell her about the happenings around the city. Rarely did personal subject come up. Even when they did have an in-depth conversation, it took so long to talk. He still didn't know anything about Kathryn; only that she lived in a boarding school for the mute and she had much book knowledge, but was not street wise.  
  
"Kathryn" Spot called, from behind her. She ignored his called, but set down the brush in her lap. Her eyes shifted from the mirror - where she could see him - to the floor in a shameful manner. "What's wrong with you?" She disregarded him again.   
  
Spot gritted his teeth, his temper starting to boil. What was wrong now? She was not going to start playing games with him again. He stepped up beside her, grabbing her chin, and making her look at his face. "Don't start this. I'm not gonna let you." She gestured something that Spot recognize as 'I'm sorry.' "You better be. Now, give me the comb." She handed him the comb, and he began curtly brushing her hair.   
  
Kathryn winced every time he hit a knot. It took a few minutes until Spot's strokes became smoother and Kathryn relaxed to enjoy the brushing, her shoulders sinking from the tension that had been released. As soon as her uneasiness subsided, it flared up instantly - making her sit upright like a board was keeping her from moving.   
  
Spot ran his hand down the churlish brown hair, fondling it with his fingers. He leaned down over Kathryn's shoulder and said, "You look pretty with your hair down; wear it down more often." He moved to her side, noticing the nervousness in her eyes. "You don't like me touching you, and you dare not to touch me. Tell me why."  
  
"You wouldn't understand" Kathryn signed.   
  
"You've never given me a chance to." Spot shook his head, sighing. "I ain't that bad of a guy, y'know. Sure, sometimes I see things in black'n'white, but not all the time. I've given you a roof and food, so you should know I ain't that bad."  
  
Kathryn frowned deeply, grabbing her notepad. "I'm thankful for what you have done for me. But, everything around me is so complicated."  
  
A heave erupted from Spot's chest, and he raised up smacking the bunk leg with his fist. "Kathryn, I have a brain! I can figure things out; just tell me!"  
  
The mute girl shrunk to the floor, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. Spot's temper always got the best of him and the people around him. He had been the nicest person besides Baxter at the lodging house, but she found to be rather afraid of him at times.   
  
She felt his burning glare on her, and didn't dare raise her eyes to meet his. He walked up to her, kicking her barefoot lightly with his shoed foot. He kicked her harder when she didn't respond to him. Finally, Kathryn bared her eyes to him. Spot signed to her in an abrupt manner. She, in turn, signed a retort back to him in the same abruptness.   
  
The silent argument went on with the two signing back and forth till a pleased smirk spread over Spot's lips. "I'll be back in a while", and with that, Spot left the room - Kathryn still leaning by the bunk leg in her curled up position.  
  
*What in the world is he trying to do???" she thought, befuddled. 


	4. Part Four

Writer note: My poor character, Kathryn, is getting drug it no end. Here's some replies to peeps.  
  
Melinda Becker- Yeah, I do know a good bit of sign language. It's the coolest language!  
  
Kora- *applauds* You finally got the title?! LOL!  
  
Thank you to everyone who has keep up with this fic! I'm glad your enjoying it :) Now on with the show...  
  
***  
  
The next evening, Spot traveled back to the lodging house and up to his room expecting Kathryn to be there. She wasn't.  
  
"Where's Kathryn?!" he barked to the few newsboys in the bunkroom.   
  
The silence of their unlifted heads made his blood boil more. If anything happen to her...  
  
"She's on the roof."  
  
Spot turned to the washroom to find where the answer came from. The youngest of his newsboys, Doodle, stood there. Spot didn't waste any time, and was on the roof in half a minute. The mute girl sat there, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the darkness that would soon consume the New York skyline. A noise from Spot's shoe startled her, and she spun around.   
  
When she saw it was only him, Kathryn turned around settling in her former position. Spot set down beside her, pulling out his cane and laying it next to him. "You actually left the room for once."  
  
"I leave it when no one is around" Kathryn signed, almost not visible because of the setting of the sun.  
  
"You have a lot of problems." Spot wagged a finger at her.   
  
Kathryn sighed. "I don't understand you."  
  
That made him laugh out loud. "You know," He moved in front of her to look her in the eye. ", everything I do to you is for you're own good" Spot said, arrogantly.   
  
Kathryn didn't respond. She looked to the roof, not wanting to face whatever Spot was getting at. She heard him stand - grabbing his cane along the way - and hoped he was leaving her alone. She never expected what would happen next.  
  
Not even a moment later, she felt a sharp tap on her arm. Kathryn flinched, snapping her head up just in time to witness Spot tap her again. He repeated the action a third time. She groaned, and held her hand out to block the blow.   
  
"Come on, Kathryn" Spot egged on, hitting her a fourth time but with more force. Kathryn stood up, trying feverishly to block the strikes. Spot continued with them, hitting harder each time. "What are you gonna do about it?"   
  
Kathryn groaned in frustration. Her arm was becoming sore from the constant smacking, but Spot pressed on. "Grab the cane, Kathryn!" he commanded, viciously.   
  
The breaking point was near. Tears flowed down Kathryn's cheeks; her extended hand grasping desperately for the cane that plowed at her. Finally, she caught the cane blindly, yanking it from Spot. She gripped it and swung it around - prepared to slug the culprit.   
  
"Go head, Kathryn, hit me with it" Spot ordered lowly, his eyes locked on hers. Several seconds passed with no movement. All the faces of the vicious people who haunted her flew by her mind's eyes, and she wanted so badly to beat every angry pang she had toward them with that wooden stick in her hand.   
  
The faces disappeared with the clearing of her tears and all she could see was Spot waiting in anticipation for her to swing at him. He'd done some nasty things to her - she'd never forget the his grip squeezing her chin and turning her head to look at him. But, he wasn't the one she wanted to take her aggressions out on.   
  
The tension dropped from Kathryn's shoulder. She lowered the cane, stepped up to Spot, and handed it back to him. Spot shook his head in disappointment as she walked to the fire escape and vanished down the ladder.   
  
***  
  
Spot didn't return to his room until late in the night. He knew Kathryn wouldn't face him if he was in there with her, so, he waited till she was asleep to make his way in. She was curled in a tight ball on the bottom bunk, uncovered and face tear-stained.   
  
He raised the blanket to her shoulder. *Doesn't she ever quit crying?* - he thought, irritated. He didn't waste any time undressing and climbing in bed for the night.   
  
***  
  
Kathryn's eyes opened, hating the fact that she had to get up. It couldn't even of been three in the morning, it was still dark out. She stood up, looking at Spot asleep on the top bunk. He looked peaceful, and she wished she could have that kind of sleep. She lost count years ago of how many times she had cried herself to sleep.   
  
*Enough of that* - she snapped, shivering. Kathryn slipped quietly out the room, walking to the washroom. The moonlight helped in guiding her to the washroom, but she had to grope for a stall in the completely dark washroom - recalling where she was going out of memory. A stall was only feet from her reach when two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her firmly against a tall figure.  
  
"We meet again" she heard in her ear. Flagger. She cursed then tried jerking away, but his grip was too strong. He picked her up off the ground. "No, no. You can't go no where. This is your lucky night."  
  
Flagger pressed his lips against Kathryn's neck. Either from a full bladder or out of fear, she couldn't hold it any longer. Flagger took a moment to realize a warm liquid was running down his leg, but when he did, he dropped Kathryn - swearing obscenities at her.   
  
Kathryn took full advantage of the situation, and rushed back to the room - her safe haven. Even if he was a jerk to her, she knew Spot would protect her. She sunk to the floor, trying to catch her breath and wiping new tears away. In the bunkroom, she could hear one of the newsboy asking Flagger what was wrong.   
  
"I hit my toe on something" he lied.   
  
*Sure you did* - Kathryn thought, cynically. *Forgot to mention the part where you wanted to rape me.* 


	5. Part Five

Writer talk: Hope no one hates me for what I'm about to do next with this story. This part is sort of like "cut to the chase", but that was the only way I could figure out how to write. So, hope you like! The ride is almost over...  
  
***  
  
In hesitation, Kathryn peeked out of Spot's room. The bunkroom was empty. She took a running start from to the doorway and shot down the stairs, relieved to find Baxter at the front desk. He looked up, smiling seeing her.  
  
"Good morning, Kathryn."  
  
She nodded at him then picked up a pen and scrap paper from the desk - scribbling words onto it. Baxter read it. "Of course, you can stay down here with me today. Is there a reason why?"  
  
"I really do not want to be alone today" she wrote.   
  
"Okay, if you would like."   
  
An hour passed. Kathryn was busy sweeping the dining room off the lobby. Baxter peeped his head and said, "Kathryn, I'll be right outside dusting off these rugs." He noticed her nervousness, and smiled. "I'll be just right there outside the door. Won't take me long." She smiled slightly, nodding. With that, Baxter disappeared as she went back to sweeping.   
  
The stillness of the empty lodging house was a bit unnerving. Kathryn took a deep breathe, trying to stand her ground and not caving in to fear. *I can't let it rule me* she reminded herself. If only it were that easy…  
  
She sighed in relief as the sound of footsteps hit her ears. *Baxter is back. There's nothing to worry about.* Kathryn turned, finding an unwelcome visitor.   
  
"You whore!" Flagger's fierce strength knocked Kathryn sprawling on the floor. There was no time to  
react to his bite. Flagger kicked the broom across the room then grabbed an abundant handful of her hair - yanking her to stand.   
  
"You're coming with me" he snarled, kicking her feet from out under her, sending Kathryn tumble to the floor again.   
  
Flagger grabbed her wrist, anticipating on dragging her out threw the alley door.   
  
*CRACK*  
  
Flagger released Kathryn; his hand fleeing to the back of his head. He turned to see Spot - cane raised - ready for a fight.   
  
"What the heck do you think your doing, Flagger?" Spot gnarled, dangerously.  
  
A disgusting smirk crossed his lips. "Letting Kathryn have what's coming to her. She is a whore, ya know?"   
  
"I'd apologize to the lady if I were you." A constant reign of bullets shooting from Spot's eyes hit Flagger like a firing squad.   
  
Flagger only laughed. "Why should I? I know Kathryn pretty well. I use to request her often at the Campbell Brothel on DeBecker Street."  
  
"You're lying" Spot snarled, eager to kill his newsboy at any second.  
  
The laughter filling the dining room dripped with mockery. "Me? Lie? I don't think so. If you want a straight answer, just ask Kathryn there." He bowed, gesturing in Kathryn's direction.  
  
The poor girl's head was lowered and eyes diverted to her bare feet with new tears falling to the floor. Spot stared at her, questioningly. She knew his piercing eyes were upon her by the way her skin crawled. Finally, she signed an answer that made Flagger paster on a triumphant smirk.   
  
"She'll do anything you want. But, why should I tell you that, Spot? You should know. C'mon Kathryn, let's go do what we started. I'm sure Spot wouldn't mind." Flaggler stepped forward, ready to grab Kathryn.   
  
"Stay away from her." Spot interceded between to two. "You get the heck out of my lodging house."  
  
"Oh no," Flaggler shook his head, snarling. "She not gonna get off that easy. I'm not gonna be the one who has to go! She's the whore! Didn't you HEAR ME!"   
  
The pot in Spot's mind overflowed with the anger he was trying to consume in himself. He shot forward, knocking Flaggler down in a swift movement - pinning his arm behind his back and planting his knee in Flaggler's back. "I told you, get the heck out of my lodging house."  
  
Just then, two of the Brooklyn newsboys appeared in the archway of the dining room. "Spot, you need help?"  
  
Spot nodded firmly, not taking his sight off the boy pinned under him, remarkably not struggling. The two newsboys grabbed Flaggler on both sides, and hauled him out the lodging house. Kathryn, leaned against the far wall, watched the entire scene. Spot turned to her. He stared at her intensely, finally moving to her.   
  
"You okay?" he asked.  
  
Kathryn nodded.   
  
"It's true, isn't it?"   
  
She nodded, again.   
  
"C'mon, let's get up to the room." Spot lead her up the stairs.   
  
***  
  
"That's what I wouldn't understand?" Spot said, breaking the eerie silence that had settled in the cramped room for over ten minutes.   
  
"You wouldn't understand why I was in the brothel" Kathryn signed.   
  
Spot stared at her intensely then shook his head. "Why do you always assume I won't understand!"  
  
Kathryn stood up from her position on the bunk, and signed in Spot's face. "No one believes a dumb mute girl!"   
  
The tension fell to the floor as Kathryn realized what she'd done. Somehow by just saying those few words, it made the weight disappear. All too soon of her victory though, she caught the sharp look on Spot's face and her accomplishment of blurting out the truth - died. She expected the worse.   
  
"You're not dumb," Spot signed then he said out loud, "What reason you were at that brothel is none of my concern. I'm guessing those men who were after you worked there?"  
  
Kathryn nodded, sadly. "I escape, and I do not want to go back."  
  
"You're not, because you're staying here" he reassured. Spot did something he had never done to Kathryn before: he pulled her into an embrace. Before Kathryn's surprise could wear away, the door burst open, revealing one of the newsboys who had taken Flaggler away. Spot pulled away from Kathryn, swiftly.  
  
"Spot! Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know what...."  
  
"What is it, Trapper???"   
  
Trapper grimaced at the tone. "We were hauling Flaggler out of Brooklyn when he got away from us. We chased him down four blocks, but lost him around Sanders St."  
  
"Can't you boys do anything without me?!" Spot snarled. "Get the Brooklyn newsboys, and have someone tell all the newsboys in New York to keep an eye out for him. We're all going looking for Flaggler right now. We need to find that son of a gun!" He turned to Kathryn. "You stay here. I'll get two of my boys to guard the bunkroom so no one can sneak in and take you. Okay?" Kathryn nodded, a little stricken. Spot turned, and headed out the room - feeding Trapper instructions along the way.   
  
***  
  
It had been over an hour since Spot had left for the search for Flaggler. She sat on the floor, reading the newspaper one of the boys on guard had given her. She could hear her two "guards" talking and most likely playing some kind of card game.   
  
Just then, loud noises like fighting arose from the bunkroom. Kathryn froze, not knowing what to do. What if they were here to take her away? There were no hiding places in the small room that contained her. The door swung open, slamming against the wall. Kathryn looked up, startled, at the face that bore down at her.  
  
***  
  
All she saw was darkness. Her hands bound behind her back, and a blindfold had been placed over her eyes. She heard a Scottish voice sneer about how great it was that she couldn't scream... "No one can heard her" he laughed. She was pushed violently onto the floor, and the blindfold was removed.   
  
"Welcome back, Kathryn" James Campbell said, grinning ear to ear. "You've been gone for quite a while, I was troubled to have thought something had happen to you. No need to fret now." He moved toward her, bending down to brush the hair stuck to her cheeks. Kathryn shuttered at his cold touch. "An old friend informed us of where you were, and he'd be honored to give you your punishment."  
  
Panicked thoughts raced through her mind as her body went limp at the sight before her.   
  
"Hello Kathryn" Flaggler leered, licking his lips. "I can't wait to get my hands on you." 


	6. Part Six

Writer note: It's almost over! One more part!!! Yay! Thank you to everyone who has read this the whole way through :)  
  
Part 6  
  
The chaos in the bunkroom ceased to exist when Spot appeared in the doorway. He'd been given the news from one of his newsboys that something bad went down at the lodging house. He walked in long strides to the two newsboys he'd posted as guards for Kathryn. The sight revealed everything. Baxter wrapping Trapper's broken arm before tending to the gash on his cheek. Rip was lying on someone's bunk, another newsboy helping him down a bottle of whiskey to forget about the stab wound to his side.   
  
Spot looked at Trapper. "What happen?"  
  
Trapper blew a long heave, keeping his gaze to the floor. "These men ambushed us - one of 'em had to be Scottish" he started in a lowly voice. "We didn't have time to think. After they wopped us over, they took Kathryn." He finally gained the nerve to face Spot. "I'm sorry, Spot. We couldn't do anything."  
  
The pause left Trapper nervously awaiting for his leader's response - whether it be anger or understanding…you could never tell. Spot took a long glance at Rip then back at Trapper. He met Trapper's eyes, nodding once, and walked away.   
  
All too sudden though, Doodle ran in like a banshee out of hell. "SPOT! Come quick! The girl is on the street!" Spot was gone in an instant down the stairs and out to the street. Some of his newsboy were crowded around a figure lying on the ground. He pushed them aside to find Kathryn there, face down. He turned her over to find blood on her face and her ripped clothing.   
  
"We were coming in when this carriage rode by and she was flung from it" someone said, but Spot only heard distant murmurs.  
  
He scooped her up; her limp body heavy in his arms. His newsboys peeling away from him as he carried her into the lodging house.   
  
***  
  
Spot waited impatiently outside Baxter's room for word. Baxter had been in there for about fifteen minutes examining Kathryn. Spot snapped his head up, hearing the door open - Baxter stepping out wearing a somber face. That told the tale.  
  
"She'd dead, isn't she?"  
  
Baxter nodded. "From what I can tell, she was dead before they even brought her here."  
  
Spot lowered his head then walked in the room, bending down at the bedside. Kathryn lay, still and cold. The blood that dried under her nose had been wiped away by Baxter. The older man stepped back in as well, and sat on his chair next to the bed.   
  
"She'd been beaten badly," he gestured to her lower body, "and it looks as though someone had forced their self on her. What's horrible is, she was most likely alive during all that. From the marks around her neck, she was choked to death." Baxter sighed. "Such a waste of life. I know she meant something to you."  
  
Spot drew his eyes up from the body to meet his landlord's. "I was only trying to help her. She needed a lesson and I tried teaching her. She almost had it too."  
  
"Do you know who did this to her?" Baxter asked.  
  
Spot nodded, a dangerous spark shining from his eyes. "I know" he replied then stalked out the room - fist clenched.   
  
Baxter sighed again, and shook his head in dismay. "Poor child." He pulled the extra gray sheet from his small closet, covering Kathryn's whole. "Never had a chance to live." 


	7. Part 7

Part 7  
  
Spot pushed his way through the streets of Brooklyn, mind set on one thing - vengeance. He wanted to see Kathryn leave the lodging house in confidence with her chin held high...not carried out in a wooden box. If he guessed right, Flaggler would still be in Brooklyn, popping up somewhere - making his appearance a brag on his behalf.   
  
It wasn't long before the genial voice, that could turn cruel in an instant, stood out in the hoopla of the setting evening. Spot's eyes burned fire at the sight. Flaggler looked up, as if he could feel those haunted eyes on him. He gave a mocking wave to Spot then excused himself from his next dish he had enchanted.  
  
"I'm guessing you got my little present" Flaggler said, strolling to where Spot stood. "Kathryn was something special, sharing her was a big problem though. You know that dontcha, Spot?"  
  
Spot let every word melt into the air before his cord snapped - letting loose the infamous temper he was known for. This was different. This wasn't fueled by anger or betrayal or even love. It was the curve of Flaggler's smirk that set him on edge. The knowing that the girl who lived in a shell that she almost escaped from was now to stay there forever.  
  
He punched and punched, not realizing, not caring, that the boy on the opposite side was lying half dead in the street. He wasn't aware of the screams from women or whistle that drew closer to him. Spot knew nothing, but the motion of his fist cracking against Flaggler's swollen, bloody face until hands wrapped around his arms and dragged him away to a safe hiding place.  
  
***  
  
Epilogue   
  
"It's been five years since you died. I lost my sanity. Didn't regain it back till your funeral. Flaggler recovered from the damage I did to him, but not fully. I must of hit him so hard, his speak was slurred. He didn't bother staying in Brooklyn. My boys made sure of it.  
  
"I haven't seen my boys in a while. I didn't stay at the Brooklyn Lodging House too longer after what happen to you. I never had anything I knew how to do until you came along, and taught me signing, expect just bossing people around and keeping my boys in line.  
  
"I found a place in Queens for the dumb, deaf, and blind. They're a free organization, and they took me in. I been there for four years. I help with anything they need done. Even met a nice girl named Margaret. I married her a year ago. I work with the mute and she works with the blind. I love her, I really do.   
  
"There's not much else to say to you, but something I never did get to say...thank you."  
  
Spot brushed the newly fallen snow from the small gravestone before he turned to walk away.   
  
The END!  
  
It's done! Finally! I think it's been over a year since I started this whopper. It's been one of my fave fics to write. Thank you so much to everyone who has keep up with it!!! :0) 


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